


The Lonely Murderer

by SaikaKuchiki



Category: Vampyr (Video Game)
Genre: Definitely Remorseless Jonathan, Gen, Maybe - Freeform, Seymour's POV, although they're only mentioned, evil!Jonathan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-06
Updated: 2018-07-06
Packaged: 2019-06-06 01:36:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15183845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaikaKuchiki/pseuds/SaikaKuchiki
Summary: Seymour knows he's evil. People fear him, it is a reputation he has rightly earned but still does not satisfy his demons. Then the worst happened.





	The Lonely Murderer

**Author's Note:**

> So when you just talk to him, Seymour isn't that interesting. He's an angry murderer that loves his mum and doesn't want to be left alone. But if you embrace both Stella and Rufus he becomes much more interesting and the moment I found that out my brain just ran away with it. If you feel like exploring more with your murderous bastard playthrough I would recommend checking it out.

Seymour knew he did bad things, but he’d always felt he wasn’t fully responsible – it was always his demons. But no matter his personal opinion on the matter he’d come to accept that he was a criminal, a remorseless murderer that would sooner or later face the same fate. His mother was the only good thing in his life, the only thing that quietened his demons. That cockroach orphan was trying to steal her away, but he couldn’t hurt him, his mother would never forgive him. So he made do, he punished the boy but never actually hurt him.

That was his life, the rest of London didn’t matter.

Then the strange doctor started coming around, only in the dead of night. He wasn’t scared of Seymour, even when he found out about Seymour’s murders. His icy, bloodshot eyes pierced through him, but there was no hatred, no fear, simply mild interest in how he chose his victims and why he did it. His demons roared, but there was more than anger or hatred, they were defensive and maybe afraid. Seymour did not trust this man.

He watched the doctor come and go about the docks, talking to anyone who was around, providing medication, asking questions, rescuing people. Occasionally he would talk to Seymour, even gave him medication, which Seymour accepted because how else was he going to survive this epidemic?

Then he found out that his mother had let the doctor into their house. His demons raged that he wasn’t to be trusted, that he’d told her not to let anyone in, especially at this time of night. But then he saw his mother’s face, the flash of fear behind her eyes and the gentle gestures designed to calm him. His demons quietened, shamed into silence so they turned their rage on him. He stormed out, disappeared into the night and the first person he came across took the brunt of it.

He didn't go home that day. He needed a cooldown, to put back on his calm facade before he faced his mother. When he finally returned to his house, however, something was wrong. There was no motion behind the windows, Rufus wasn’t even hanging around like the bloody cockroach he was. He opened the door and felt the bottom fall out of his stomach. Lying in front of the stove were two corpses, that of his mother and Rufus the Curse.

He stared at the bodies and his mind was eerily silent. There were bloody wounds on both their necks but very little blood. Rufus was reaching towards his mother’s hand, but his demons didn’t even have anything to say to that.

The silence was wrong.

He should be angry.

His demons should be screaming at him, roaring for vengeance. He took his bludgeon to the furniture. He smashed at everything, swinging indiscriminately at walls, at doors, at tables, yearning for the rage that fuelled him, for the demons to scream at him.

But there was nothing.

He found an unbroken chair in the wreckage. He sank into it, in the same room as the corpses and time stopped working. It could have been an hour, it could have been a day, it could have been a week, but nothing changed. Someone came by talking about the quarantine and protocol and taking away the corpses. His demons would have told him to crush this person, not to touch anything that belonged to him, but they were still silent, so he sat and watched as they took his mother away.

Soon it was night, and someone wholly unexpected walked through the open door. Dr Reid paused in the doorway, taking in the destruction before turning to face Seymour.

“Good evening, Seymour,” he said, calm as anything.

“Dr Reid, always punctual our good doctor, always there when there’s a corpse,” Seymour’s voice sounded as empty as he felt. Dr Reid merely raised an eyebrow.

“Why the sarcasm?” Seymour smiled. Reid thought that was sarcasm? He’d show him sarcasm.

“Come on Jonathan, you know me better than that. Do you think I could have made a good doctor? ‘Cause you make a bloody good killer!” Dr Reid paused, his eyes pinning Seymour to the chair as he examined him.

“You seem different, Seymour. Have you found peace somehow?” The doctor’s head was slightly tilted, the question seemed genuine and it was impossible not to answer him.

“The hate and rage are just… gone. The demons left and now I just feel… empty...” Seymour’s eyes slid to where the corpse of his mother had lain. “And sad...” Looking back at the doctor, Seymour saw that his gaze had moved to the little amount of blood that stained the floor. “You’ve cured me doctor. I don’t even want to kill you, you sick fuck.” Surprisingly a strange smile passed over Jonathan’s face before his attention was drawn back to Seymour.

“You think I’m a murderer, Seymour?”

“We all have our little secrets, don’t we?” Seymour sneered. “Yours involves knocking on doors at night and talking to boys in dark alleys.” Dr Reid frowned slightly, the expression as subtle as every move the doctor ever seemed to make. Seymour smirked. “I’m not judging.”

“Are you afraid of me?” he asked calmly, but Seymour could see a dangerous, predatory glint in his eye.

“No,” the answer came instantly to Seymour and he knew it was the truth the moment it left his mouth. “I know you killed my mother and the boy, and I know that my life depends entirely on your good will.” Jonathan blinked before a surprisingly self-satisfied smile spread across his features.

“Yes, I suppose it does,” Jonathan glanced around the debris and managed to extract another intact chair. He sat down opposite Seymour who was entirely non-plussed by this behaviour.

“Well then Seymour, indulge me. What are you going to do now?”

“The real question is: what are you going to do? I’ve a feeling I’m no match for you, Dr Reid.” A wicked grin spread across Reid’s face.

“Oh most certainly not, although that might be entertaining one day. For now, let’s say you have my attention. You say your rage is just… gone?”

“There’s only silence. No unbearable noise to drown out with other’s pain.”

“It’s not going to last,” Reid said, almost sadly. “So far as I can tell, your ‘demons’ are simply a manifestation of your compulsion. The shock of the deaths of your mother and Rufus have shifted the balance of your brain. One day it will correct and your demons will return.”

“I know what I am, doctor, and I know what I’ve done. Can you say the same?” The dangerous smile returned to Reid’s face.

“You are a compulsive psychopath Seymour. What do you believe I am?” Seymour stared at Dr Reid, debating what to say.

“You’re... something more. People see me and know to be afraid of me. But you… you act like a gentleman. You gain people’s trust and then murder them once they trust you implicitly.” The smile was still on Reid’s face.

“Correct. One more question for now: why do you think I killed your mother?”

“There doesn’t have to be a why, doctor. There never does. She’s gone, that’s all that matters now,” Seymour said quietly.

“Because she made it so easy,” the doctor whispered. “She was an old woman, all alone, inviting people into her house in the dead of night.” He stood up then, standing over where his mother’s corpse had lain, staring towards the door. “Rufus simply chose the wrong time to enter, but I wasn’t going to turn down a second that so readily presented itself.” Dr Reid was staring at Seymour now, seemingly assessing his reaction to the news. Seymour didn’t know how he truly felt. He had killed people for similar reasons, some people for even less. He didn’t know why Reid was telling him this, but it hadn’t made him angry, his demons wouldn’t return that easily it seemed.

“The why doesn’t matter, doctor. She’s still gone, and you still killed her.”

“Indeed. Until next time then Seymour.” The doctor swept from the house, leaving Seymour to his silence.


End file.
